Today was my day off, so i had arranged to meet a french boy called Pierre-Louis. He is my first francophone friend here, and i feel content to have him as a potential new friend. We spoke french together all day, and never ran out of things to say: the beginnings of friendships with people that you instantly connect with are great- you are eager to learn about each other, everything is new and waiting to be discovered, and you are excited when you feel the warmth of friendship being reciprocated.
I got the train to Lorient at three o clock, and we met in the town centre outside the big fnac (a popular record store- three floors of dvds and cds)
Pierre is quite skinny and still has quite the face of a teenager despite having just turned twenty one. In fact, he had celebrated his birthday the previous week, despite his real birthday being in july. He said this was because he hadn't had time to celebrate it on the actual date. Strange. I think perhaps he is very attatched to his university studies in a somewhat geeky way, that doesn't even allow him a respite on a noteable birthday like a twenty first. He is studying history, and learns languages in his spare time- English, German, Russian, Chinese are just among a few of them.
Even his part-time job is tied in with academia- he had just finished working in the university cafeteria dishing out food to the students when i met him. He told me with a certain pride that over a thousand students had passed through the cafeteria that afternoon and been served.
I asked what we were going to do, but he had nothing planned, so i suggested that i would like to see the port. Being in the city centre surrounded by tall buildings and shops makes one feel a little bit enclosed and chlaustrophobic. The port jutted out to sea and the smell of the ocean penetrated everything. We lazily walked down a cobbled path alongside the water, listening to the seagulls, reading the names of the rows and rows of boats and sniffing the air. At the end of the path was a military building closed to the public.
There was a strange bus shelter too and a board which gave bus times. Times for the BOAT BUS.
That somewhat excited me. I think it's been years since i've been on a boat. (Perhaps the last time was in Fuerteventura when i was seventeen and went on a "glass bottom boat" which was exactly as the name suggests. Along with a crowd of tourist-children i could crouch down with my nose against the glass squeeling in excitement at the different colourful fish.)
Pierre-Louis suggested we get the boat somewhere, and we had a little espresso coffee while waiting for it to arrive. Last time we'd met up he'd blushingly asked if i could pay for his coca cola telling me he'd lost his wallet! I discovered today that this was probably a lie, since the same awkward silence ensued when the bill came on it's little round tray. I asked him if he'd forgotten his wallet again, and he confessed that in fact the real problem was that his grant had not yet been put into his account, and he had not a penny left! I hope he confessed this little white lie (since he is a good catholic).
The boat trip was really exciting. We sat on the top deck on the white plastic seats and began to gather speed, there was not a lot of rolling around on the waves, because the sea was really very calm. In fact i think this may be because we're in a bay- a bit of the sea that juts inland, and this is why it's much quicker to get a boat from one place to another. The boat took us past a wrecked grey military boat, which had a flock of black birds clinging to it's mast. It looked like a ghost ship from a creepy movie, and was clearly no longer in use. We passed an island, an empty mass of land with only one building visible on it, clinging to the side. It began to speckle with rain, which gradually increased in force until we were being pelted with freezing rain and buffeted by the wind like the seagulls which were screeching above us.
Eventually we arrived on the other side of the bay in a place called Locmiquélic. We wandered down a long road, in the attempt to find life: cafés, creperies, bars. On the right hand side were big, attractive houses painted white with large gardens, which despite their size still had a lonesome air, as if being ravaged by the sea breeze had fixed a sad expression on their faces (if houses had faces.)
We passed one bar, but decided to continue in case there was anything more enticing further down the road. After walking for a bit we returned and entered the first bar we saw.
The propietress was blonde and middleaged and cheerful. She was very friendly to us when she took our order of strawberry syrup in water, a drink which tasted like childhood medicine. The bar was warm and had a friendly air (can you say that? Pierre Louis commented that i anglicise my french, but i think i'm starting to frenchify my english too)
There were amateurish paintings all over the walls, as well as ornaments and plants, giving the place the feel of a communal living room for the village. We chatted about: the history of france (france in medieval times), the different regional accents in france, why the symbol of Brittany is an ermine (stoat/weasel type creature), and who the fuck is that guy in the painting. There was a square canvas on the wall directly opposite us that bore the large slightly weatherbeaten but nonetheless handsome face of a middleaged man, rendered in clumsy thick brushstrokes. He had blue eyes which seemed to be staring right at us. Turned out that he was a very famous french singer which Pierre Louis was astounded that i'd never heard of.
On the journey back, the sun was just beginning to set. It was orange behind the clouds, and trying it's hardest to send it's warm peach coloured rays to us, despite the overcast weather. On the batobus, Pierre-Louis put his arm around me. I'm not at all attracted to him, but it seemed like a fairly pleasant gesture, since it was not too presumptuous and seemed a friendship gesture more than . I think at some point I'll have to slip into the conversation that I have a boyfriend, but i'd hate it if this would mean that he was less eager to hang out with me.
I have seen a small article in the local paper saying that this sunday in a small town which i haven't heard of, but which is nevertheless not too far from my house, that there is a play showing. A play in which all the characters are played by LIFE SIZE PUPPETS. I have to go. I don't want to go on my own. I must go with Pierre-Louis, since I know no-one else.
I'll keep you updated.
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